


Jailbird

by Froggyflan



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Cunnilingus, M/M, Modern AU, Raunchy filth, Trans Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 15:33:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8407144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Froggyflan/pseuds/Froggyflan
Summary: When he comes home, everything is okay.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [octonaut](https://archiveofourown.org/users/octonaut/gifts).



> A commission for [Octonaut](http://octonaut.tumblr.com/), who asked for an AU where Australia isn't fucked up but Jamison is still a thief, gets caught and sent to prison, and when he gets out, Mako treats him oh so right.
> 
> Man I am terrible at commissions. Nothing ever comes out the way it should.
> 
> Welp here's some trans!Junkrat porn holler at ya boi.

He hadn’t meant to get caught. Who plans on getting caught? But he did, and he was stuck in a prison for a few hundred days with nothing but the clothes on his back and the hope that he wouldn’t have to be there any longer than he had to be.

And he wasn’t. He was good, just like Mako told him to be. Staying quiet and not causing any trouble suddenly had a benefit, and he was out of that terrible place before he even knew it. Well, he’d been counting the days. So he did know it.

Mako waits for him right outside the gates, arms closed over his chest like a real tough guy. He had refused to visit, to write, to call. To learn his lesson, he’d told him, to never do something so stupid again. Jamie didn’t make promises, but being alone in a disgusting little box full of ne’er do wells sure made him rethink that. Seeing him now, leaning against his bike looking so cool, Jamie agrees he’ll never ever do it again. Get caught, at least.

The drive is silent. Mako’s still pissed, but Jamie is losing his goddamn mind in the bitch seat. Holding onto Mako reminds Jamie’s body that he hasn’t touched him in far too long, and his grin doesn’t leave, not for a moment. He buries his face into the beaten leather jacket that should have been put out of its misery ages ago and breathes in the scent he’s only been able to dream about. Jamie finally gets to enjoy the breeze, the green of trees, the exhilarating rumble of the ride. He’s in the real world again, and it makes him holler loud into the wind.

When he gets home, he stumbles inside and it’s too wonderful. Everything is warm and familiar; just dirty enough to be comfortable, exactly how he left it. Treasures and trinkets overflow every shelf, every nook, and each one is suddenly more valuable than they’ve ever been before. This isn’t a too-bright jail cell with nothing but white bricks and metal bars. There aren’t any convicts wanting to break bones, no buzzing alarms, no cuffs or guards. It’s just a little old house on the skirts of Perth that leans a little to the left and has squeaky doors.

This is his place- no, _their_ place.

Fond memories flood him like they mean to clean him out, to make him only think of happy things now. He remembers rainy nights when the roof leaked and they'd pull out every pot and bowl they had, and let the dripping lull them to sleep. When snow came, they'd stay in, baking warm things to keep the cold out. Jamie painted pictures in the backyard when the weather was nice enough. Mako liked to sit and read when he painted; he'd always have a book with him, but Jamie would always catch him watching instead. He didn’t do much reading.

Tension melts out of his muscles in an instant, and it makes his brain mushy and his knees buckle. He’s safe again.

Mako shucks off his jacket and throws it over his well-loved armchair before Jamie jumps his bones. He climbs him like he’s a raging bull, straddling that big belly and locking his legs around his waist the best he can. Mako stumbles at the force of the embrace, but his hands are quick to find Jamie’s back, supporting him with warm, pudgy palms.

“Shit,” is all Mako can say before it’s stolen from him by excited chapped lips, long fingers ripping out his hair tie. He’s careful with his metal fingers, wrapping them around his shoulder as the other hand cards through silvery locks.

“Yeah,” Jamie mumbles against that mouth, rolling his tongue forward boldly, and he’s drowning in the taste of him. He doesn’t seem so mad now, with his tongue in Jamie’s mouth. Not mad at all. 

God, he’d missed him. He’d missed him so damn much.

Mako carries him into their bedroom, and as soon as they hit the bed, Jamie is nothing but squirming, panting joy. The feel of a real bed -of a blanket that doesn’t itch, of linens that smell like Mako- makes his body fall to pieces. He wants to hide under the covers and sleep away the weekend, hell, the week. Right after they fuck into oblivion, of course.

He's delighted by Mako's sudden enthusiasm, loves the way he practically tears Jamie’s shirt off. With his torso exposed, Mako gets to work kissing and exploring like it's all new to him. Thin freckled skin is pulled taut over defined muscles, and it stretches, expanding with every hard breath. Those big hands slide down his pecs to his waist and back up again, feeling the ridges of bones and the uneven lines of scars. Mako is kissing into his neck, breathing with a low, pleased hum that settles in Jamie’s skin and sends him reeling, arching up into anything he can _feel_. Blunt fingernails scratch at his shoulders, his nipples, his hips, and he's a goner.

“Don't go teasing me like this,” Jamie interrupts, and he can't help the way his voice cracks and trembles. “It's been too long. I'll fucking die, mate!”

He doesn't want to rush this, but he doesn't have a choice. His body is desperate for touch, been so hollow without it. You can only rub it out in a shitty, dank jail cell so many times before you just can't feel it anymore. He wants it to be gentle and loving and tender, but he craves this man and anything he’ll give him. 

Mako tugs his shorts off in one swoop, and it makes Jamie outright moan. He pulls down his underwear too, slipping it off his legs, and letting out a huff that Jamie could swear sounded just as desperate as he felt. 

“I won't last long either,” Mako admits, and Jamie laughs at that, lifting up his legs and pressing his foot to Mako's broad chest. The peg leg rests lazily over his shoulder. 

“Just from the sight of me? You're a real romantic, ya goon.”

“C’mere,” Mako grumbles, and the playfulness in his tone makes Jamie howl with laughter as he's dragged closer by his thighs. His legs are pushed apart, leaving him naked and wide open. He isn't even going to complain about how very dressed Mako is. Jamie normally hated when Mako wouldn't bother to take his clothes off, but now he doesn't care how he fucks him as long as he gets fucked. 

The jingle of a belt being undone makes Jamie’s mouth water like a Pavlovian dog, and he lifts his hips off the bed, spreads his legs wider. Too many nights dreaming of that fat cock only to wake up in his lumpy little cot with nothing but disappointment and wetness between his legs. At the sight of it, so full and already leaking, he whimpers in a pitiful display of shameless.

“Fuck, I've missed that big guy too.”

Mako pumps himself and pries Jamie’s legs open even more. His hips ache, practically cracking in half, but he's moaning all the same. Mako presses the dark head of his cock right onto Jamie's twitching clit, and it makes his whole body shudder. He's so fucking wet and Mako is rubbing himself back and forth over his folds, caressing his hole, teasing it with too little pressure. 

“For fucks sake!” He cries, and Mako smiles in that terribly loving sort of way that he only does when Jamie's done something particularly endearing, and it makes Jamie's heart beat like a hammer.

Mako pushes in, and it's heaven sent. He's a goddamn slick factory down there, easing in like he was made to fuck Jamie. Maybe he was. God must have been doing him a favor for once when he created Mako Rutledge.

It's a beautiful, tight squeeze, and the thick girth is just what he needs after being empty for so long. He's begging for this, screaming for it, and his cunt is weeping in happiness. Mako pushes in deeper, and Jamie is a hot, drooling mess. 

“Fuck,” he hisses, and he reaches down with both hands to spread his lips wider, just for the show of it. Mako appreciates it, moaning and squeezing him harder. Jamie is trembling all over, and it feels so good that tears start to prickle at his eyes. “Oh fuck.”

Once he's in all the way, Jamie can stop to breathe, stop to admire that amazing stretch within himself. He'd never get over that feeling, of being full of Mako. It was the best thing to ever happen to him. Mako shifts his hips to get into a better position, putting both hands on Jamie's thighs. He loves when he does that. He uses his legs for leverage, for something to hold onto while he fucks the daylights out of him; they’re his handlebars. 

“Fuck me right, Mako.”

Mako is a good listener.

He thrusts quick and sharp right off the bat, and Jamie is breathless and so completely overwhelmed, yelling out his satisfaction. He latches onto the hands on his thighs, holding them tight as they keep him spread open. His body jerks with each pump, pushing him back and forth over the sheets, and the wet smacking of flesh is intoxicating.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” It seems to be the only thing his brain can think of, now that he was being destroyed from the inside. Mako's hips snap against his own; forceful, needy, animalistic. He wants Mako to wreck him, and he’s already off to a good start.

Christ, is that nice. Each thrust rubs him in all the right ways, and he gasps when Mako’s hands move to his hips, pulling him onto his cock, using him like a goddamn sleeve. Jamie grips his thick wrists to hold on, bucking up, wanting him even deeper. He imagines he looks like an absolute whore, and that's exactly what he wants.

“Shit, yes!” He cries, and that earns him a particularly hard jab, making his head bounce on the bed. He concentrates on the burning hot motion between his legs, tightening his muscles to hear Mako moan, loud and unabashed. Jamie’s in love with the sound of it, clenching around him, making the pressure even more velvety and irresistible.

“Say ya missed me,” he commands, and the cock delving into him seems to go impossibly faster, thick fingers holding onto him like a lifeline. Mako leans over him, and the beast of a man crushes him into the mattress with a shrill squeak of springs.

“Missed you,” he answers, and it has to be true, by the way he’s fucking him like he’s going to die. Jamie revels in the way he’s practically bent in half, and just lets Mako go to town.

Mako was right about not lasting long. He crushes Jamie’s hips in his big hands and grunts follow each thrust as he comes closer. Jamie is egging him on with his own wild noises, fisting his hands in the sheets like he’s going to tear them. When the pounding starts to become erratic -too fast, deep enough to hurt- Jamie moans and whispers every dirty thing he can think of. It works a little too well, and Jamie lets out a shout as Mako sinks into him and stills, cumming hot and heavy.

The air is stifling and musty like a summer afternoon, and they're both breathing it in loudly. For a moment, Jamie thinks he’s disappointed about not cumming too, but Mako is already pulling out and lowering himself to the floor, dragging Jamie to the edge until he’s level with the sopping mess between his legs.

“Mako,” he tries to moan, but it only comes out as garbled nonsense. He’s already wailing at the feeling of that hot mouth sucking on his twitching clit, a big finger slipping past his pink folds to press in. It curls and wiggles right where it needs to be, on that spot Mako’s become well acquainted with, and it’s almost not fair how quickly he’s losing his goddamn mind. The digit pumps and moves expertly, and the tongue that’s found its way to his clit flicks and laps and devastates him. It’s definitely not fair.

He presses his hands to Mako’s head to hold him down, to urge him to press harder, eat him out like he’s starving, but it’s not like he has to try very hard. Mako knows what he’s doing. His thighs tremble and shake violently with impending climax. All it takes is one more curl of that finger and he’s worlds away. Good fucking lord.

The fire coiled in his belly bursts out and bleeds through his whole body in a blaze of toe curling pleasure. He clamps his thighs against Mako’s head, locking him in place as he rides his face, jerking his hips and throwing his head back. Mako kisses and sucks and nips in his moment of release, making it all the more explosive. It keeps on coming, that sweet bang of color behind his eyes, and he’s tight like a steel trap. Tears aren’t just a suggestion anymore; they’re flowing freely and making a real mess of his face. He’s not sure if it’s from cumming so hard or the fact that he’s in his own bed with his own Mako and everything is okay again.

Mako tries to lift his head up, but he’s squished between his shivering thighs, and the more he moves, the more it lights up Jamie’s sensitive nerves. It’s not until Jamie finally feels the orgasm fade that his legs give out, letting the man free. His body is impossible to move, and he feels like he could just pass out right there, spread out and dirty. He never wants to leave this spot.

Mako takes pity by sliding the sheets out from under Jamie and throwing them over his rapidly cooling body. Jamie can’t quite follow where Mako is or what he’s doing, but he feels the pillow under his head, the blankets piled over him. There’s fingers in his hair, smoothing it back and out of his watery eyes. A giant shadow closes over him, and lips touch his brow.

“Missed ya,” Jamie mumbles as if he didn’t already know, and that earns him more kisses. The bed is sucking him in quickly, reminding him he hasn’t had a decent night’s rest since he left, but he wants to feel more of the caresses, of Mako’s warm, stubbled face on his. It’s a losing battle. He closes his eyes to powerful fingers mapping him out as the kisses become more distant. He breathes slowly to the thumbs brushing against his cheeks in little circles, and it’s all too much.

A deep dark sleep takes him, one that soothes and calms even his worst fears. He doesn’t need to dream anymore. He doesn’t need to remember good times and hope that they aren’t all gone. He’s got the one thing he needs, and it’s watching over him with steely brown eyes and a far too gentle smile.

He’s home.

**Author's Note:**

> [ Follow me on Tumblr! ](http://froggyflan.tumblr.com/)


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